Of Mortal Men
by Shinki
Summary: “Being John Connor doesn't make you invincible.” Future fic. John/Cameron


"**Of Mortal Men"**

The silence in the room was deafening and John Connor felt a moment of loneliness and a aggravation that not even war brought out in him. After the latest plan that failed he wanted noise, he wanted something to just take the screams of his comrades as the machines took down his men one by one. Groaning he fell to his beat up gray chair and slid his coat partly off so he could get a better view of his right arm; a jagged piece of shrapnel, barely a couple inches long, was lodged in the side of his arm. He hissed as he touched it and moved his hand back down to the arm of his chair.

As if on cue the adjoining room door opened to reveal Cameron; as if she had subconsciously known he was hurt. Shaking his head he knew that Cameron had probably been waiting patiently on his bed for him to return; with her legs crossed and her eyes staring at the door. Listening to every sound and every movement waiting for any sign that he was back.

"You're hurt," she stated knowing full well that she was stating the obvious. With long strides she walked towards him bring attention to the tight leather that was practically glued to her thighs.

In a attempt to not yell in pain he reverted to barking orders, "grab me some bourbon." She looked at him with her eyes narrowed and her mouth pursed; a look he was sure meant disapproval.

"Bourbon would not be helpful in this situation," even as she said this she went over to his wooden cabinet and unlocked it. Grabbing the bottle she turned back towards him and strode back to him and passed it to him. He greeted her with a small smile, a smile he hoped would take that look from her face.

With his good arm he pulled the lid off and took a long swig, "believe me...right now it's helpful." Sighing he tried to catch his breath, he could feel the beads of sweat run down his neck.

"I should have went with you," her voice was barely a whisper but he could easily hear the self blame in her voice. "I could have stopped this from happening." Touching his arm she pressed gently on the skin around it causing him to gasp. His stats whizzed through her mind telling her the risks of infection and the level of damage to his arm. "This will hurt."

On cue he swigged another mouth full down, "yeah. Bring it on." Putting the bottle on the side table he looked down at her with hooded eyes watching her intently as she tried to found the best angle to removed it from. Grasping it by it's edged she pulled it out quickly from the side, making sure she didn't cause any more damage. As he did his best to hold back a screams of pain his body fell limp against the back of the chair and his heart raced.

Grabbing the med kit from the table she knelt back down in front of him. "I'm sorry." She looked up at him with a sweet smile, a smile that told him she wasn't sorry. Grabbing the disinfectant she poured it on a cloth and pressed it to the wound then began dabbing around it; cleaning up the blood. "It was not too deep. The shrapnel missed her bone by a 2.7 centimetres, you were lucky." Turning her head away from his arm she looked down at the floor. "There will be no long lasting effects from this wound." Lifting her hand she placed it on his neck and ran her index finger down the scar that started at his ear and ran down to his collar bone. "You will have another scar."

"Cameron," he grabbed her hand that rested warmly against his scar. This was a look he was getting use to, a look that was so human and it tore him apart each and every time he saw it because he knew he couldn't do anything to stop it.

"You're only a mortal man, John" she whispered. Pulling her hands away she grabbed the roll of fabric bandages and began to wrap it tightly around his arm covering the wound completely. "No man can withstand this constant treatment you put yourself through."

"Thank you for explaining," he through out the phrase in a attempt to be cheeky. A phrase that had vanished from her vocabulary as she tried harder and harder to blend in with his soldiers; a feat that she could never succeed but she still tried. They had both changed and at times he felt that she was now more human then he was.

"Being John Connor doesn't make you invincible." Looking at him intensely she tied the bandages tightly. "You're not invincible. If you let me, I would still fight for you. I can withstand more damage then you."

"No," he hissed and grabbed her hands pulling her closer to him situating her right between his strong thighs. "Enough people have died for me! Not you too. I can never let that happen."

"I will not die for you," she smiled and leaned upwards. Her hands grasping both of his thighs tightly. "I will fight for you and I will live for you. As you fight for us so we don't have to die, I will fight to make sure you never have to die for us." He shuddered as he felt her hands dance slowly up his thighs as she slowly lifted herself a bit.

Licking his lips he smiled. Reaching out he cupped her cheek his hand. He found himself fall farther and farther for her each time she classified herself as one of them, not one of Skynets machines. Because he knew she had never really be theirs, she was special. "Cameron." Pulling her the rest of the way upwards he forced her to get up on the chair too and straddle him; her body remaining slightly raised to make sure she didn't hurt him.

"John." Her right hand ran slowly over his hair line then down his jaw as if she was trying to memorize every contour of his face. Leaning to the side she kissed his latest injury and he felt his heart swell at the kindness she only showed him.

He leaned forward and let his lips touch hers and for a moment he forgot he was John Connor. For a moment he wasn't the saviour for humanity. For a moment he allowed himself to be the mortal man he knew he was, the mortal man he couldn't allow himself to be. The _man_ Cameron had learned to love; the man that could openly love her in return.


End file.
